have a double significance, for it would be the anniversary of Alice's birthday as well. Eleven years ago, when the snow was as now, deep on the ground, and the stars which Alice loved so much, and thought so beautiful, were shining brightly, she had come and gladdened the heart of fond parents by the sight of their first little baby girl. From the time of her birth, Alice had been the object of much tender solicitude; she had early ex hibited great delicacy of constitution. More than once after some severe attack of childish illness, she had been so utterly prostrated that her life was despaired of. Still as years passed on, she grew stronger and stronger, till she was now the bright, beautiful, little girl, whom with all her faults some of my readers have perhaps already learned to love. Yet no reader can have followed Alice L'Estrange's history so far without feeling, that with her loving, sensitive, yet passionate nature, life must to her ever be a battle-field, that her foes were not only around, but inside the fortress. She was a child with strong natural impulses, quick to give an angry reply, yet the words had hardly died on her lips, when the loving little heart would long to recall them, and exclaim, "How could I have said it." This want of thought, which showed itself in word and action, had led Alice into many troubles. Judicious punishments and wise counsels had been administered by that gentle mother, whose heart yearned over her little daughter. Still Mrs L'Estrange did not despair of her child's future, she knew that each step of the way which the young pilgrim must tread, is beset with fresh dangers and difficulties, but she remembered at the same time there was one watching over Alice with a love as tender as it was all-powerful, that He would not quench the smoking flax, but fan it by His gracious Spirit till its light shone clear and bright. Alice L'Estrange realised, perhaps more fully than many of her tender years do, how great her faults were, knew she was passionate, knew it was wrong to be so, and that this very passion not only was the cause of sorrow to herself, but that when through it she had been obliged to spend whole evenings in the schoolroom, her mamma's and papa's hearts ached, and that the brightness of Charlie's evening was gone, since she was not there to share the Children's Hour with him. Remembering all this, Alice did try and try earnestly, and often during the past year she had won the victory, still even the past year had its record of angry words and passionate actions. On this, the last day to her of an old year, she had sought to be very watchful. And when severe storm and cold had prevented her from going out to walk with Charlie, or accompanying nurse later in the day to the village, where she went to some of the poorer cottagers, with kind messages from Mrs L'Estrange, Alice bore the disappointment well, remaining at home without a murmur, and, with loving heart and willing hands, assisted her mamma in attending to the wants of her Christmas pensioners, and was so pleased and gratified when she was allowed to add to her mamma's gifts from the contents of her own little money-box, on which was printed, "Alice, for Christmas poor." And so the hours of the day had well nigh winged their flight, leaving nothing but smiles and gladness on Alice's brow, as she gave her mamma, papa, and Charlie, their good-night kiss. Oh! would that she had been watchful to the end, that the words and actions of the last hours of her old year had not been destined to live in her memory, reminding her of the warning words, "Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall." |